


That One Time Draco Malfoy Drew A Pink Unicorn With Chalk

by drarryness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry and Draco!Taking Care of Kids, M/M, Summer Camp, day camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryness/pseuds/drarryness
Summary: Harry and Draco are counselors at a day camp for kids. The day involves unicorns, cookies, and fountains. (Two shirtless boys too). You can guess the rest.





	That One Time Draco Malfoy Drew A Pink Unicorn With Chalk

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy! Many thanks to my lovely betas Mikayla and Ollie.

“Tell me again why I let you sign us up to be counselors,” Draco bemoaned, running a hand through his hair as he looked towards the park and sighed. The grass was bright and the sun was already shining in the early morning. Pedestrians walked through, some pushing strollers or running the paths.

     Harry grinned, the bucket of chalk he was holding swinging. He had signed them up to be counselors for the day camp on a whim, but figured if he hadn’t managed to get himself killed in the twenty-two years he’d been alive, he probably could get through this as well. Draco too.

“It’s good experience,” he chided. “You’ll love it.”

“I will _not_ ,” Draco returned. “When else would I willingly babysit children, anyways?”

“What about Teddy?” Harry asked smugly, knowing Draco loved to babysit the sweet four year old.

“Fine, you’ve got me there. But Teddy is an exception. He’s not whiny and squirmy, like six year olds are!” Draco protested, theatrically gesturing with a hand.

Rolling his eyes, Harry checked his watch. The class he and Draco were going to teach was supposed to start in half an hour, but he could swear there was already a child waiting at the table where the sign for St. James Day Camp was hanging. Draco seemed to realize it at the same time, frowning through his glasses - he insisted they were reading glasses; they weren’t.

“Is that a kid? I thought the start time is eight thirty,” he remarked.

“It is,” Harry replied.

     Striding ahead, Draco set down the box of games he was carrying and cautiously approached the girl sitting on a bench, her feet hanging above the ground. His expression was soft, and Harry smiled to himself. Draco swore he wasn’t good with children, but they all loved how he played with them and spoke to them with utmost attention.

“Hello,” Draco said. “Are you here for the camp?”

The girl looked up and frowned at him. “I think so,” she said. She had bright eyes and a rosy complexion, and her dress was colorfully patterned. “Amelia said I was supposed to wait here until someone came.”

“Who’s -" Draco started, but the girl spoke over him in a loud tone.

“Amelia is my nanny,” she declared. “She’s really nice, but Mommy doesn’t like her very much.”

“I see,” Draco said. “What’s your name?”

“Ellie. That stands for Eleanor, if you didn’t know,” she said with an air of importance. Draco smiled, holding his hand out to her. She cautiously took it and shook firmly, seeming headstrong for someone her age.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie. I’m Draco, and this is Harry,” he motioned behind him. “We’re going to be your teachers this week.”

“Hi Ellie!” Harry waved, setting down the box of games he was holding. “We’re not ready to start camp yet, but if you want to color with some chalk, you can do that.”

“Is there a blue?” Ellie asked. “Blue is my favorite color.”

Harry rummaged around in the chalk box, swirls of dust rising into the air. "There you go,” Harry said, finding a blue handing it to Ellie.

She went to color, and Draco set out a checkered tablecloth, putting a box of cookies on top for a later snack.

“She’s cute, isn’t she,” Harry said casually. “She reminds me of you, I bet you were like that as a child.”

“Just because she’s a nice child does it mean I like being here,” Draco sighed. “But yes, I was. Obviously,” he smirked. “My Mother thought I was developing my ‘independence’, Father hated it.”

“I can imagine it,” Harry grinned.

     He thought back to when he lived with the Dursleys’, how Petunia had brushed aside Harry’s sarcasm and Vernon hated it with a passion. He didn’t realize he said it out loud until Draco laughed.

“Your words were so nasty back then. It took a while to admit to myself that’s part of what made you attractive to me.”

“Oh yeah, like you could notice that when you were focusing on insulting me every chance you got,” Harry shot back endearingly.

      Draco _tsked_ and shook his head. “I was not insulting you. I _swear_.”

“Insulting is rude, that’s what Amelia says,” Ellie said closely from behind them. “You shouldn’t be rude,” she disapproved.

“That’s right,” Draco agreed. “Sometimes Teacher Draco can be rude.”

Harry snorted and smiled. “Just a bit.”

~

Over the next twenty minutes the day campers arrived, being dropped off in a flurry of stressed parents and care takers in vans, hatchbacks, station wagons and even a taxi. The children were loud and playful, their yells and (one) scream piercing the early yet already hot air. 

“Harry, how are we going to make sure they all don’t die?!” Draco frantically whispered as all the campers assembled in front of them. He genuinely looked concerned, and was wringing his hands. 

“Don’t worry, I put an invisible shield around these edges of the park,” Harry whispered back.

“You genius,” Draco smirked.

“You know it. Now, campers, welcome to day camp! I’m Harry and this is Draco,” Harry announced. “Today we’re going to have lots of fun, but first we have to make sure everyone’s here!”

He went through roll call, and afterwards the kids started coloring butterflies on the sidewalk with chalk. The coloring was wonderfully intricate, and the children turned the simple task into an hour long activity through their chatting. 

“Teacher Draco?” one of the children asked, tugging on Draco’s arm. “Can you draw a unicorn next to my butterfly?”

Harry swore he saw a slight grimace cross Draco’s face before he smiled brightly. “Sure! What colors?”

The child brought him over to a patch of concrete, where a green and pink butterfly was already colored in.

“You need to make it really, really pink, okay? Here you go,” they said, sitting next to Draco and scribbling.

“I will,” Draco sighed. “Harry, I’m never doing this again,” he called, as pink chalk dust settled into his jeans as he sat cross-legged on the ground. From the corner of his eye, Harry stifled a laugh. Draco was drawing the unicorn in great detail, and didn’t seem to notice when other children came over to watch. They were patting their hands all over his clothing (and face), and streaks of blue, green and purple covered his white shirt.

Turning his attention back to the plates of cookies in front of him, Harry swiped a broken one and bit into it, the chocolate melting on his tongue. “Everyone! It’s time to eat!” he half shouted, hoping his voice would project. “Come and grab a plate!” The children rushed in, grabbing plates and jabbering about their coloring in between bites. Draco trudged in last, dejectedly trying to brush off his shirt.

“How are you still clean, babe, it’s beyond me,” he considered. Harry modestly shrugged.

“It’s magic.”

“My arse, it’s magic. Maybe the kids just hate you more and me less,” Draco suggested.

Harry swatted him with his arm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Mhm-hmm,” Draco murmured.

       The rest of the day passed quickly, and Harry only got soaked by the hose _once_. Maybe he needed more watering than the flower pots did, he reasoned. Draco purposefully lost at Shoots and Ladders approximately 17 times, and accidentally tripped over a jump rope once. Harry gave 5 piggyback rides, but after the last child started grabbing his hair and yelling ‘Tarzan!’, he decided to stop.

      Finally the last of the children were picked up, a frazzled looking mother apologizing for being twenty minutes late. Packing up the supplies for the day, Draco looked on at the chalk drawings scattered throughout the gazebo, and at the slightly-overwatered flower plants soaking up the sun.

“You survived, I think,” Harry lifted an eyebrow.

“Just barely. I think letting a child purposefully rub green chalk into my hair was a new low,” Draco responded.

“It’s a good look on you,” Harry grinned slyly.

“It is not. Oh look, the fountain finally turned on.”

Both of them glanced towards the fountain, where statues of dancing children sprouted water from their mouths.

“It looks nice and cool,” Harry longingly glanced, wiping his brow.

“Who says we can’t go in it?” Draco asked, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Love, your clothes! We’d have to drive home wet,” Harry protested weakly.

“You’re not making a very strong case,” Draco grabbed Harry’s hand. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun.”

    Shaking his head and laughing, Harry ran after Draco, who dropped all of his things and jumped right into the fountain calmly. Rolling his sleeves (even when it was hot, his Dark Mark was often hidden) up, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it at Harry. The cold water shocked him, since it was at least 30 degrees and the water should’ve been lukewarm. Not one to back down from a challenge, Harry made a bowl with his hands and splashed Draco back.

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” He grinned, as Draco’s mouth dropped open and he shrugged off his shirt.

“It’s easier to be cold and wet without a shirt on,” Draco explained with a raised eyebrow. “What else would I be doing it for?”

      Harry glanced appreciatively at Draco’s toned chest, the goosebumps on his belly and the skin stretched tightly over his clavicles. “Oh, I don’t know, you prat,” he countered, taking off his own soaking wet shirt.

Harry shivered for a minute, before the humid air settled onto his skin.

“I kind of wish we had water guns,” Draco laughed, getting more water and splashing Harry.

“I don’t,” he replied, running from Draco while trying to get water in his hands. 

Draco ran towards Harry, splashing water on him as he went. 

“My glasses are wet and I can’t see! This isn't fair," Harry protested, feebly turning and splashing Draco. 

“I’m not that kind, darling,” retaliated Draco, splashing the water with his feet and running into Harry, smashed against his chest.

“I - well this is a fortunate position. Got tired of chasing me?” Harry asked, placing a hand on Draco’s cheek. He could feel Draco’s dimple when he smiled, looking into Harry’s eyes.

“Nope,” he said, as he brought his hands from behind him and dumped a handful of water on his head. The water dropped into Harry’s eyes and tasted a bit fishy, and ran into rivulets that dropped onto his neck.

“I hate you!” Harry exclaimed as he wiped his eyes.

“Nah, you love me,” Draco returned pleasantly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a nice shower once we get home to wash all that water off at least.” He glanced sideways at Harry. 

“I do. I love you a lot. That shower you just mentioned wouldn’t be bad either,” Harry said, pecking Draco’s soft lips and grabbing their shirts from the bottom of the fountain. “You want to leave?”

“I do,” Draco replied, wrapping Harry in a one armed hug as he grabbed the bag he had unceremoniously dropped.

“Let’s get home, love,” Harry said as they walked towards their car slowly. The air stuck to their skin, and the air conditioned car sounded like a treat.

“You know, maybe this day counselor thing isn’t so bad,” Draco pondered thoughtfully as they got into the car. “I might be able to survive the next few days.”

“Well, we’re painting with the kids tomorrow,” Harry said, as Draco groaned at the news. “If it wasn’t for you I would quit this thing right now. I draw the line at _painting_ with _children_.”

 


End file.
